If thou shouldst bid thy friend farewell,
— But for one night though that farewell may be,
Press thou his hand in thine; thou canst not tell
— — How far from thee

Fate or caprice may lead his feet
— Ere that to-morrow come. Men have been known
Lightly to turn the corner of a street,
— And days have grown

To months, and months to lagging years,
— Before they look on loving eyes again.
Parting, at best, is underlaid with tears,
— — With tears and pain,

Therefore, lest sudden death should come between,
— Or time, or distance, clasp with pressure true
The palm of him who goeth forth; unseen,
— — Fate goeth too!

Yea, find thou always time to say
— Some earnest word betwixt the idle talk,
Lest with thee henceforth ever, night and day,
— — Regret should walk.